


Making Up For Lost Time

by Sounddrive



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sounddrive/pseuds/Sounddrive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(COMPLETED) AU TFP. When Bumblebee is arranged to look after the victim of a kidnapping case, he didn't expect to find out that her Sire was one of his closest friends. A friend that he hadn't seen in over a vorn. Bumblebee/Smokescreen. Three-shot. Rated to be safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting Again

**NOTE: The card game Bumblebee plays with Warper is the equivalent of Slapjack. (Google it if you don't know what it is.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hasbro. The characters that are used in here aren't mine. Only Warper is of my own creation, as well as the plot.**

* * *

A kidnapping case had been brought to a happy ending. During the week the investigation occurred, Bumblebee had been out. He had caught the seasonal virus. As much as he tried to convince Ratchet otherwise, he was ordered to bed rest.

However, the victim of the aforementioned case was a sparkling. She got rather unruly when she got bored. The solution? Everyone at the precinct knew Bumblebee had a knack for entertaining the younger generations. The minute the black and yellow mech returned to work, the sparkling from the kidnapping case ended up in Bumblebee's care.

When Bumblebee met Warper, the Enforcer was stunned at the sight of her optics. It struck him odd that they seemed familiar with him, yet he couldn't place a finger on it. Her thin armor plates were primarily white with gray pedes, servos, and derma-plating. Dark blue stripes accented her shoulders and ankles.

Currently, Warper's Sire, as the Enforcer was told, was on his way from several cities away.

To pass the time, Bumblebee had to brought in some old board games from his sparkling-hood. The sparkling played all of them, but Warper quickly got bored.

At a loss, he was about to suggest a different game. To Bumblebee's surprise, the femling pulled out a two items from her sub-space. One was a card deck held together with a rubber band. It had a theme with creatures native to Cybertron: Drillers, Predacons, glitch-mice and turbo foxes were the four different suits.

The other object . . . Bumblebee couldn't take his optics off it. It was a rectangular box, covered in purple fabric. The container was twice the size of Warper's palm. There were several symbols spread throughout the fabric. In several corners of it, the fabric was worn down. It revealed the titanium container it covered.

"Why didn't you bring this out with the others that had to watch you?" Bumblebee questioned the femling.

"They were boring.  _Y_ _ou_  on the other servo, seem interesting," Warper replied. The black and yellow mech couldn't help but feel flattered, albeit he felt bad for his coworkers.

"Can I see what's inside?" Bumblebee pointed to the decorated case.

"Sure," Warper nodded. She gingerly opened the top of the box. Bumblebee had to refocus his lens-like optics to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Inside the case, there was a deck of cards neatly placed in a small pocket. The back of the top card was a work of art. It was decorated like a glass window.

Bumblebee whistled in awe, making Warper giggle. The mech looked to the femling. "Where did you get this?"

"It was a gift from my grand-sire. It's a fortune telling deck. Wanna pick one?" Bumblebee nodded.

With the care of a paleontologist picking up a bone, the sparkling took the cards out of the case. Bumblebee raised an optic ridge as Warper shuffled them with the speed of a card dealer. The femling shuffled it a few more times before she fanned them out, face down. "Choose a card," she instructed. Bumblebee humored her and thought about it. He picked the one on her right and pulled it out.

Bumblebee donned a confused expression as he flipped the card over. "What is this?" As he showed her the card, Warper leaned forward and squinted.

The design on it was of a generic blue spark in the center. Strands of purple-pink energy encircled it. In the foreground, barely noticeable, were two shadowy, faceless protoforms. They looked at each other, and their servos were pressed against the other's.

"I never saw someone pick that before," she admitted. Warper quickly looked into the box. "There's a translation data pad in here, somewhere . . ." Soon, she pulled out a pocket sized data-pad from the false bottom. She turned it on and cross referenced the image on the card.

"I think I-oh." She stared at the screen before she turned her gaze at Bumblebee.

"What? What does it say?" Bumblebee's door-wings lightly flapped, curious.

"I can't understand a word of what it says." She handed the data-pad to him. Bumblebee quickly read the description. His optics widened and his face-plate heated up. His door-wings jutted up in alarm.

"What did it mean?" Warper leaned forward as her expression became confused. "Is it bad?"

Silence reigned for a good five minutes.

" . . . Can we play something else?" Bumblebee finally pleaded.

"Fabulous idea," Warper replied quickly. She was eager to make the awkward situation disappear. She took his card and quickly placed everything back into the case.

**O*O*O**

**_WHAP!_ **

"Argh!" Bumblebee exclaimed when the little femme made away with the pile. Bumblebee was in the middle of his fifth game of 'Slap the Turbo-Fox' with Warper . . . and . . .

Bumblebee looked at the meager amount in his servos. He glanced at the deck in the sparkling's servos.

"Primus on a pogo stick femme! You're nabbing all my cards!"

"You have to be faster," she replied cheekily. The two burst into a fit of laughs.

"Ah, ok, ok kid. Lets keep going," Bumblebee sat up a bit straighter. He placed his servo upon the top card in his palm. His fingers twitched. "We already saw three of the four turbo-foxes. Let's see if either of us can get him."

Just about as he was about to place down his card, a knock came on the door. Bumblebee looked to the sparkling. Warper quivered in excitement.

The door opened, revealing one of the sergeants and-

"Sire!" Warper dropped all the cards as she rushed to the mech outside the door. Her pedes created a small whirlwind, scattering the cards all about the room.

Bumblebee looked up. Warper's Sire had knelt down to hug his sparkling. All the tension in his shoulders swept away once Warper held him. The mech had blue armor accented with a bright shade of yellow. Bumblebee's optics snapped to the mech's helm. The grooves . . . and those dark blue optics-

"Smokescreen?" Bumblebee gasped. His optics cycled for a moment to readjust his vision.

Bumblebee hadn't seen Smokescreen since their Academy days. After their graduation, Smokescreen continued on to the Elite Guard. Bumblebee took a different path; he turned to the Enforcers.

Unfortunately, they lost contact after several weeks. Now, Smokescreen was there, right in front of him, with his  _sparkling._

Bumblebee watched them. He couldn't hold back a smile as Warper giddily jumped up and down. "Sire! Sire! Sire! I missed you!" Warper squealed. Her smaller arms wrapped tight around her Sire's neck.

"Oh, I missed you too," Smokescreen exhaled. He held his sparkling in his arms. "I'm so sorry . . . I should have kept track of you . . ." After another minute of hugs and apologies, the two loosened their grip on each other.

Smokescreen looked up to address the mech in the room. "Thanks for-" it was then that the blue and yellow mech noticed who he was talking to.

"Bumblebee?" Smokescreen stood up to his full height. That made Bumblebee get to his pedes as well.

"Smokescreen, your paint . . . blue and gold?" In truth the shorter mech almost didn't recognize him.

Smokescreen let out a rueful laugh. "Ah . . . change is good in my opinion." Bumblebee failed to hide a frown as he saw the mech's optics. The black and yellow mech looked to Warper. The femme had pressed herself closer to her Sire, concerned.

Bumblebee could also feel Smokescreen's EM field. Sadness . . . the normally bubbly mech was upset.

"So, who's the lucky mech or femme that you had this little angel with?" Bumblebee asked quietly. He winced as Smokescreen frowned. The Enforcer took that as his cue to go.

Just as he had put a pede out the door, Bumblebee felt a servo latch onto his shoulder. He turned his helm around to see Smokescreen's face, apologetic.

"Thanks for watching Warper though," the elder mech squeezed Bumblebee's shoulder. He had a lopsided smile. "Means the world to me," he whispered.

Bumblebee automatically placed his servo atop Smokescreen's own. "No problem," he replied, along with a small smile of his own. Smokescreen released his grip on Bumblebee, allowing him to leave.


	2. Message Delivery

_Several vorns ago . . ._

Smokescreen sat in one of the outdoor tables near his next class. One data-pad was on the table as the other was in his lap. The mech had one end of his stylus stuck on his mouth. He glared at the historical information. As much as he liked history of the Thirteen Primes . . .

Frustrated, the mostly white mech rubbed his optics. His denta gritted against the stylus.

"Excuse me?"

Smokescreen looked up. Oh, it was New Guy. The youngling was a transfer from one of the smaller academies just outside the city.

He was very late coming into the first day of the year. The poor transfer student was a hyperventilating mess as he burst through the door. His action startled the professor and the class of forty.

Smokescreen looked him up and down. The yellow and black mech had a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Three data-pads were in his right servo. Hmm . . . he seemed nice enough.

"Yeah?" Smokescreen replied nonchalantly. He took out the writing utensil in his mouth and put it back into his note pad.

"Um, do you know where Building C is?" the youngling asked. He shuffled his pedes sheepishly.

"I thought they have a welcoming committee for new bots," Smokescreen said. He settled his servos atop his thighs.

"Yeah, but they kinda ditched me," the yellow and black mech sighed. His wings drooped a bit. Smokescreen held out his servo and the youngling gave him the respective schedule.

"Well, you're in luck," Smokescreen flashed the newcomer a grin. He handed back the schedule to him. "That's close to my next class. I need one thing though." The transfer student raised an optic ridge. His wings stiffened a bit. The youngling turned to go, but was stopped by a servo that clamped upon his forearm.

"Your name, numb-node. I can't keep calling you New Guy," Smokescreen laughed. The yellow and black mech sputtered and shrugged off Smokescreen's appendage

"I'm Bumblebee," he answered. There was no animosity in his tone, much to Smokescreen's relief.

"Smokescreen." They shook each other's servo as the warning bell rang.

"C'mon kid, I'll show you where it is." Smokescreen picked up his data pads and led the way. Bumblebee followed suit.

* * *

_Present day . . ._

"Sire, did you eat something bad? Your face looks funny." Smokescreen looked down to see Warper scrutinizing him.

The mech laughed. "Oh, no, no. I'm fine." He held up the data-forms. "I just need to finish these before we can go home."

"Is that why we're in this dinky room?" Smokescreen smiled at Warper as she walked over to him and climbed into his lap. "I'm getting bored."

Smokescreen wrapped his arms around the sparkling. "I thought the cards kept you occupied?"

"Well yeah, but I'm getting tired of flipping and shuffling them. I'm out of questions to ask too." Warper pouted, reminiscent of her Sire.

Smokescreen couldn't help laughing. When Warper shot him a look, he did his best to stop. His armor rattled, and he failed to contain his laughter.

There was a knock on the door. Warper leaped out of her Creator's lap. She peeked through the blinds that covered the glass panes of the door.

"It's Mister Bumblebee!" Smokescreen looked at Warper as she opened the door. He raised an optic ridge as he noticed the Enforcer carrying in a tray with energon cubes. Next to the cubes were a bowl of sweets.

The femling squealed in delight. "With goodies! Yay!" She bounced up and down.

"Whoa kiddo!" Smokescreen placed a restraining arm around her shoulders as she was about to tackle the Enforcer. "Don't! You'll knock everything over and you will have to clean it up."

"Aw . . ." Warper stopped herself, but her optics never left the energon sweets.

"Courtesy of Cliffjumper," Bumblebee explained as he set down the tray. He glanced at Warper, who squirmed in Smokescreen's arms. "You know, the Enforcer that rescued you?"

"Oh yeeeeah!" Warper nodded. "Big, red mech? Horns on his helm?" Warper used her fingers to mimic the horns on the aforementioned mech.

"That's him," Bumblebee smiled. Smokescreen laughed and patted his sparkling's back. The little one beamed at her Sire.

"Hey, Smokescreen," Bumblebee stated, glancing at the data-pad. "Are you done with that yet? It's been nearly two mega-cycles since you got here."

The taller mech exhaled, frustrated. He covered his face-plates with his servo. "I'm on the last section of the behemoth. Tell your sergeant I'll be done in . . . oh, ten to twelve cycles, tops."

"I'll pass it along," Bumblebee nodded. He got up to go.

"Wait! Mister Bee!" the Cybertronian turned around in time for Warper to wrap her arms around his midriff. Bumblebee smiled as he knelt down to return the hug.

"Thanks for . . . putting up with me," Warper said. She stepped back and rubbed her upper arm, sheepish.

"You were no trouble at all," Bumblebee responded. The Enforcer got to his pedes and patted her helm. "Be a good little femme. You'll be out of here soon enough."

**O*O*O**

Smokescreen gave the appropriate data-forms back to the secretary. He glanced about and noticed the precinct was full of busy Enforcers. Some ran off to get to their cases. Others were gathered around certain desks as a comrade spoke about the plan for that day.

The mech soon spotted Bumblebee. The black and yellow Enforcer was toward the back of the precinct. Cliffjumper was beside him; the red horned mech said something and it made the shorter Enforcer smack him in the arm. A laugh exploded from the sergeant as Bumblebee shook his helm. The young mech waved in farewell to Cliffjumper as he went into a different direction.

Smokescreen called out to the secretary before she went away. When the femme came back he took out a thin data-pad and pointed to it. The secretary was not amused as the mech explained what he wanted her to do for him. When she shook her helm, the mech sighed. His door-wings drooped.

Suddenly, a small purple limb shot up from beside Smokescreen. The clerk looked down at the sparkling that waved her arm about. Warper gestured her to come closer. Humoring the young one, she came around the desk and squatted in front of the little one. Warper got really close to the worker. The femling had her servo cupped around her mouth as she whispered to the femme. Once Warper was done she stepped back and made her optics really big.

The adult frame mouthed 'oh' and got up to her full height. She looked to Smokescreen and chuckled.

The mech's smile was the brightest in the room as she took the additional data-pad.

* * *

_Before the midnight cycle . . ._

A room is dimly lit in the third floor of an apartment complex. The berth was placed perpendicular to the wall. To the left of it was a simple nightstand; the right had a desk that was covered in case files. Behind them were holograms and holo-scans of his friends and family.

In one of the frames, a part of it was reduced to pixels because of a fist-sized crack. The rest revealed the Enforcer during his sparkling years. He was being held in his Carrier's arms. To the femme's right, stood Ratchet. The M.E. had a servo upon his daughter's shoulder, and had a reserved smile.

On the floor, Bumblebee sat with a data-pad in his servos. The young mech looked through it. Although slim, it was heavy with memories. Bumblebee flipped through the pages of his year book. He paused several moments when he came upon a certain image.

Bumblebee smiled as he tapped the screen twice, enlarging the page. Projected from the data-pad showed Smokescreen hugging the daylights out of his best friend. Then, the white, blue, and red mech's arms were wrapped around the youngling version of Bumblebee. The holo-scan was taken right when Smokescreen swung Bumblebee around in a circle.

It right after the graduation ceremony.  _"We did it! I can't believe it! WE DID IT!"_  Smokescreen had hollered gleefully.

Bumblebee smiled at the inserted file. Good ole' Carrier took the best shots . . .

The Enforcer flipped to the next page. There were scores of signatures from his classmates, but he lingered on one. Bumblebee enlarged the signature that he had circled himself.

"You better do good out there. Hey, maybe we can pick up that rain check we had before finals? What do you say?" Underneath the text continued Smokescreen's cheerful scrawl. The flamboyant mech had penned his own comm-code to remain in contact.

A sigh escaped Bumblebee. It worked for several weeks. From there, they lost contact. Bumblebee always figured it was because the Elite Guard had strict regulations with its members.

Now, the Cybertronian wasn't so sure of the reason. Today, he had seen Smokescreen. However, the mech didn't have the Elite Guard insignia that was etched into his shoulder from over a vorn ago.

And Warper . . . how did she happen?

Bumblebee was taken out if his thoughts as his door was opened. "Hi Doc," Bumblebee greeted the his grand-sire.

_WHAP!_

Bumblebee looked down to the pile of data-pads that was unceremoniously placed in front of him. "My paperwork?"

"Yes . . . and something from a certain mech," Ratchet huffed. The red and white shook his helm as Bumblebee tore through the small stack.

"I can't believe you!"

"What?" Bumblebee mumbled. He found the thin data-letter and opened it up.

"I thought you said you were over him!" Ratchet pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensor as Bumblebee read the message. "After the graduation ceremony, he admitted that he was seeing some femme-are you listening to me?"

"Yes, I am," Bumblebee set down the data-pad. "But-"

"But nothing!" Ratchet exclaimed. He exhaled and looked at the much younger mech.

"Bumblebee, even if he did return those feelings all those years ago, or even now . . . you are not allowed to be courting a civilian that is involved in a case."

"Actually, I was just put onto sparkling-sitting duty," Bumblebee retorted. "I wasn't involved in interrogation, the arrest of the perpetrator, or calling the Sire of the victim. I was out because of a virus, and the bot involved in it  _happens_  to be Smokescreen."

He was startled to see Ratchet slack-jawed. "Um, Ratchet . . .?"

"Well, you certainly have your Carrier's tenacity . . ." the medical examiner shook his helm. He went out of the room. Bumblebee stared out into the hall for a while. Roughly two cycles later, Ratchet passed by his door. In hand he had a cube of energon.

"Where are you going?" Bumblebee questioned.

"I'm going to recharge before I decide to whack your helm for your stupidity," Ratchet mumbled as he paused in front of the entrance. His expression shifted into consideration.

"Actually, I might do that in the morning."

Bumblebee snickered. "Night Ratchet," he replied quietly.

"Get to recharge yourself youngling," the red and white grumbled. The M.E. hadn't made ten steps to his room when Bumblebee plopped down into his berth. The Enforcer cycled down for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: W00T! Lol, Warper is a cute little wingman, isn't she? X3
> 
> I am so happy I got this down. It certainly got the stress out of me . . . got a bit assignment in one of my classes next week so I am nervous! Wish me luck! :D
> 
> Read and review please!


	3. Outlook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This will be the last bit to this three-shot. Considering things, I might expand it into a collection of drabbles/short stories with this universe.
> 
> Scratch that, I will.
> 
> Please enjoy the last installment of this little three-shot.
> 
> And, I want to thank all who have read, put this in their favorites/alert lists and reviewed. They mean a lot to me. X3

There was a reason why the data-letter was so light. It had only one sentence. One measly sentence.

_'Give me a comm . . . I want to talk to you as soon as I can.'_

Everyday afterwards, Smokescreen waited for his comm. to ring.

He felt utterly pathetic.

It had been a good few vorns since the ex-Elite Guardsmech had last seen Bumblebee. His spark twinged in regret, remembering the reason how and why Bumblebee got so upset.

When Smokescreen went to go and try make amends, he had the door slammed in his face.

He hadn't gone back since.

Smokescreen exhaled. He put his servo to his face.

He lied in his berth. The mech up at the ceiling of his room. His back was supported by a dozen foam pillows. The material was slightly scratchy at his wings, but he paid no mind.

The Cybertronian had time off from his job for the next two solar cycles. The mech's mouth skewed into a cross between a rueful smile and a grimace.

Smokescreen had seen Bumblebee's glance to his shoulder. Originally, the Elite Guard's symbol was there. Emphasis on the _was._

He wasn't dishonorably discharged. Smokescreen had to leave the Guard because of a sparkling that he was a Sire of.

_VRRR-!_

Smokescreen's door rapidly cycled open. The next thing he knew, his little femling jumped on top of him.

"Oof!" Smokescreen exclaimed when her weight landed on his midsection. "Oh! Morning Warp," the mech coughed. He readjusted himself on the berth. In the process of accommodating Warper, who sat in his lap, several foam pillows plopped to the ground.

"Morning Sire!" she threw her arms around him. "How'd you recharge?"

Smokescreen smiled at her. He patted her back. "I did fine sweet-spark. You?"

"Same, though I had a dream that I was flying."

He raised an optic ridge. "You said that the other day."

"Pfft, it was the same dream, only I flew over Crystal City this time."

"Oh."

It was a part of their routine on Smokescreen's solar cycles off. At least Warper didn't land on his helm or face-plates this time. The mech only could take so many miscalculated landings from his enthusiastic little femme.

Their chatter abruptly stopped when Warper's tanks rumbled.

"Energon flat cakes or-"

"ENERGON FLAT CAKES!" Warper bounced off the bed and speedily raced out the room. Smokescreen was at her heels.

"I'm gonna get ya!" Smokescreen declared, smiling wickedly.

 _"NEEEVVVVEEEER!"_ Warper protested, squealing happily once Smokescreen nabbed her up from the floor. The pair laughed and giggled loudly.

Smokescreen carried his femling to the kitchen. It wasn't a grand sight, as one could see the slightly musty and smaller than the average kitchen in any home. However, it was fine for Smokescreen, who was now on an archivist's salary.

"Uggghhh . . ."

Smokescreen and Warper froze. They looked like statues, but only their optics moved. Slowly in tandem, they looked down the narrow hall that led to a dinky guest room.

"Can you two ever be quiet?" grumbled a voice from the couch.

Oh right. Prowl was staying over for a few solar cycles. There was a glitch-mouse infestation in his home. All the hotels where he lived were packed full, so he had to ask his younger brother to accommodate him.

"Oh, sorry Uncle Prowl," Warp blushed, embarrassed. "We forgot you were here."

"Evidently," Prowl groggily mumbled.

His arm shot up from the couch and groped around.

"Visor on the table next to you," Smokescreen directed.

He got started on those energon flat cakes. As soon as Smokescreen finished cooking the first four, Prowl finally dragged himself to the table.

"Morning," Warper greeted him brightly.

Behind his visor, Prowl blinked blearily.

"Wha-oh, morning to you too, little one." He yawned.

"Rough night cycle?" Smokescreen asked. He soon had a short stack of the energon flat cakes on a plate. He placed thein front of Warper.

Within a minute, Smokescreen got himself and Prowl some energon.

The Enforcer didn't answer his younger sibling until he downed about half of the cube.

"If you call 'rough' by me having to chase down some delinquents into the early cycles of the solar cycle, yes, it was rough," Prow exhaled. He rubbed his face-plates tiredly.

He perked up and was wide awake by the time he had two more cubes of energon.

"Uncle Prowl," Warper lightly patted her servo on the mech's forearm, "can I ask you something?"

"Yes?" The black and white mech looked at her.

"Did you know Mister Bumblebee back then?"

Smokescreen choked on his energon. The liquid went down the wrong pipe, which caused him to cough raucously.

Warper immediately leaped out of her seat and slapped her little servo against her Sire's back. She hoped it would help.

Her actions did, but the odd expression upon his face-plates didn't escape her notice.

"Did I say something wrong?" the femling questioned. Warper hadn't seen that look on her Sire's face-plates since she asked why her Carrier wasn't around anymore.

Abruptly, Smokescreen got up.

"I . . . I'll be right back." His expression was full of sadness and regret. He half shuffled, half sprinted out the front door.

Warper got up to follow him, to apologize. She didn't mean to upset him! She didn't want him to leave!

Prowl placed a servo on her shoulder. Her fear was tangible through the familial bond.

"It's all right."

"B-but-!"

"He'll be back," Prowl reassured her. He rubbed her upper back. "He always has before, correct?"

"Yeah . . ." Warper sighed. She got back into her seat and slumped. The young femme frowned, optics furrowed.

"I did know Bumblebee, yes," Prowl stated. Warper looked up at him, interested.

"I take it that you went through your Sire's old data-pads," the Enforcer commented.

Warper blushed furiously. She knew she wasn't supposed to go through her Sire's old data-pads. Curiosity got the better of her, and Warp went through several of them one solar cycle when Smokescreen had taken a nap.

"I saw those . . . the ones when Sire had his other paint job. Mister Bumblebee too, only it's backwards from when I met him," Warp replied quietly. She rubbed her neck.

"Mmm. Are you confused about anything?" Prowl knew it was a touchy subject with Smokescreen.

The fact that he didn't say anything about it to his little femme was understandable.

"Yeah. Just one," Warper admitted. She lightly kicked her pedes up and down from her seat. She placed her servos on top of the table, lightly pushing her pointer digits together.

"They looked so happy in the holo-scans . . . but then . . ." Warp exhaled loudly. She looked up at Prowl with bewildered optics.

"What _happened?"_

* * *

_At a local cafe . . ._

Smokescreen sat on an outdoor seat in an inconspicuous spot near the side of the establishment. His door-wings were almost limp on his back.

Oh Primus . . . why was this still a touchy subject for him?

The mech looked to his servos that cupped his cube of cooled energon. His grip tightened on it.

 _Because you still loved him when you said you couldn't be with him anymore, you idiot,_ he berated himself.

Smokescreen face-palmed. Oh well . . . he couldn't change the past.

He placed his helm on top of the table. He stared into the cube, looking into the cool blue energon contained within it.

Slowly, a shadow fell over him. Smokescreen's lips skewed into a frown.

"I know, I KNOW," the mech exhaled. His door-wings flopped onto his back. He was just taking up space . . . Smokescreen knew he would have to give an additional five credits to the place if he stayed longer than a mega-cycle.

"I'll leave in just a second, but can't you bots see a-"

"Actually," the voice said politely, "I was hoping we could talk."

Smokescreen jerked upwards in such a way that he nearly knocked himself to the ground. His two servos barely slapped onto the table in time, stabilizing himself.

Tentatively, Smokescreen looked up from behind his energon cube. His door-wings flared upwards, stunned.

It had to be a figment of his imagination. It had to be.

Smokescreen experienced them before. Prowl told him that his imagination at times could get the better of him at times.

"Smokescreen?" Bumblebee slowly waved a servo in front of the mech's optics. "Hello? Are you in shut-down?"

Smokescreen shook his helm vigorously. His door-wings flapped. He pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensor a moment and shut his optics. The blue mech held his other servo up in a 'hold on a moment' at the apparent apparition in front of him.

"You better not be a figment of my imagination," Smokescreen said aloud. _Please don't be a figment of my imagination,_ he begged to the higher powers.

He rubbed his optics and looked at him.

Smokescreen saw that smile and was convinced he was hallucinating

"Um, you are real, right?" Smokescreen asked.

Bumblebee tilted his helm to the side, amused. "Yeah, as much as you are sitting right in front of me."

 _Good job processor,_ Smokescreen thought sarcastically.

Smokescreen felt a solid servo touch his shoulder. He looked to the servo, up the arm it was attached to, and then to the shoulders and the helm on those shoulders.

Yup. It was him.

"Um, h-hi," Smokescreen mumbled. He looked up at the Enforcer. He paused a moment and looked up at him questioningly.

"How the scrap did you find me?"

"I have my resources," Bumblebee replied. He gestured to the empty chair nearby. "May I have a seat?"

The low level archivist could only nod.

Bumblebee turned the seat around. He used the back of the seat to lean his weight upon it. The black and yellow mech wrapped his arms around it, one forearm on top of the other on the table.

"Smokes-"

"Look, I'm really, really, really, really sorry," Smokescreen rambled. "I know I screwed up and I know I made you really upset that night when I told you and I-I . . . I-"

"Smokes, Smokes!" Bumblebee stopped him. The poor mech was hyperventilating and his chassis rattled loudly at this point. "Geez, take some deep intakes."

Bumblebee nudged the energon cube to the mech opposite him. Smokescreen grabbed the cube and took two swigs. He nearly choked on the energon and coughed. Some of the energon dribbled out of his mouth.

The black and yellow enforcer was kind enough to give him a synthetic cloth to wipe his mouth.

"Dear Primus I'm a mess . . ." Smokescreen groaned. He let his forehead smack into the table. His servo held the cloth like a vice.

"We all are at one point or another," Bumblebee countered softly.

The archivist gazed up at him. "Y-yeah . . . and I understand if you're only sitting there because you feel sorry for me." Smokescreen averted his gaze away from the shorter mech.

"Smokescreen, that's not the reason why I'm here," Bumblebee stated softly.

"Okay . . ." Smokescreen said timidly. He sat up straight and looked Bumblebee in the optics. "What's the reason?"

"It's been a long time since we actually could properly talk, and well," Bumblebee took out a familiar looking data-letter from his sub-space. He placed it down on the table.

"Well, I don't have your comm. anymore, so I thought . . . face-to-face?"

Smokescreen smiled. "Sure."

He was glad to see Bumblebee smile right back at him.

* * *

_Hours later . . ._

Warper listened to the front door cycle open. The familiar pattern of footsteps came through the threshold. She exhaled in relief.

The femling paused, listening.

One voice was Sire's, another was Prowl's . . .

Wait. Who was the third one?

Warp quietly tip-toed out of her room. She listened

" . . . sorry we were out so late-"

"No, no, you got him back just in time-"

The voices were hard to hear now. Warper tried not to get frustrated.

"Prowl, can you give us a moment?" her Sire asked.

"All right. Five cycles, _tops._ Warp's been waiting up on you." Prowl turned around.

Warper dived back into her room and scurried into her berth. She yanked her blanket over her helm and waited for several cycles before she went out again.

The purple femling peeked out into the hall. She saw Mister Bumblebee's wing and her Sire at the front door. Smokescreen's back was to her, talking to the Enforcer in front of him.

The little one couldn't hear much coming out of the two of them, but before her Sire closed the door, Warper heard something that made her spark pound with excitement.

"So . . . I'll see you around?" Bumblebee asked.

"Yeah. I am moving to Iacon. I'm being transferred to the Hall of Records, remember?" Smokescreen said.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember," Bumblebee nodded.

"So . . .?"

A quiet exhale and a chuckle were heard by young audios.

Two sets of door-wings wiggled and flapped.

"Good night Smokescreen."

Bumblebee turned to go. Warper could hear his foot steps going down the steps that went away from the house.

The young Cybertronian looked to her Sire.

With one servo, Smokescreen waved farewell to the Enforcer. With the other, he pressed buttons that made the entrance cycle closed.

And in that servo, clutched a dark blue cloth.

Warp suppressed a giggle. She put on her sleepy expression and groggily waddled out of her room to meet with her Sire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Questions, comments and concerns? You know what to do.
> 
> Thank you all for reading this little fic.
> 
> A companion fic, with a different pairing in focus, but that will be related to this, is in the works. I dunno when it could be posted, but maybe after finals in June . . .
> 
> Good morning/day/night to you all! :D


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